The Grocery Store Heist That Wasn’t

You know what is harder than Houdini escaping from a water tank while chained, blindfolded, and handcuffed? Me trying to walk through a supermarket without filling my cart with nacho related nonsense. I swear I went in for a bag of spinach, but somehow I ended up clutching a limited edition nacho flavored sparkling water like it was the Hope Diamond. Who even invents this stuff? More importantly, why do I keep buying it?

The real trick of Escapology Day is not wriggling out of ropes. It is escaping that siren call from the snack aisle. Nacho kettle chips that promise to be twice as extreme? Nacho seasoned pecans that taste suspiciously like dust from the bottom of a Doritos bag? I try to avert my eyes, but then a new nacho salsa jar practically jumps into my basket like it is auditioning for a magic act. Do I need it? Absolutely not. Am I buying it anyway? Of course.

And do not even get me started on checkout. Nothing screams this person has a problem like a conveyor belt lined with twelve different nacho flavored abominations while the cashier tries very hard not to laugh. The self checkout is even worse. It beeps like an alarm every time I scan another nacho flavored mistake. It is not theft. It is self sabotage.

So no, I cannot escape. Not from the chips, not from the queso dips, and definitely not from that nacho flavored kombucha that I will regret drinking but buy anyway. Maybe Houdini could have pulled it off, but me? I am trapped forever in the snack aisle, and honestly, I am okay with that.